Have you ever walked down the street?

Maybe in your neighborhood or even in a new city and noticed how each house, each window,

seems to whisper its own story.

It's like each holds a secret, a quiet promise of the lives unfolding behind the closed doors.

Years ago, when my wife and I lived in New York, we would meander through of the lives unfolding behind the closed doors.

Years ago, when my wife and I lived in New York, we would meander through Brooklyn Heights,

and her eyes drawn to one brownstone after another.

With their towering windows and lofty ceilings, each seemed to invite us to imagine the stories that lay behind each door at the top of the stairs. And while it's fun to reminisce about those times, it is.

Today I want to talk about a different kind of street,

one that's not paved with cobblestones or asphalt, but something far more intangible, yet powerful.

It's a street where those who carry hope reside.

In the mornings, I walk our dog Derby, and it's one of my favorite parts of the day,

as we both walk outside for different reasons,

but each of us finds our own kind of enjoyment in the early hours.

For me, it's the way that the sky greets me, with its ever-changing colors.

And, well, for Derby, it's a little bit more practical.

But in the morning, though, the streets are quiet. In the houses, they stand in their

stillness as they have year after year, each one protecting its own unique stories of those inside.

But it was during one of these walks one day that came across the sign, totally unassuming

in its appearance, but just profound in its message, it said, people with hope live differently.

I'm going to say that again.

People with hope live differently. Plain white letters, nothing fancy, yet the words

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